Dria Northwind

My name is Dria Northwind, I come from the far North and East, from the Beothunk Clan. My Clan was untouched from these new settlers from across the great sea. I may be the last from my Clan, so please, let me tell you the tale of my people as I have come to know it; we were a small group who only wished to preserve our heritage and honor The Great Wolf. And at first we did just that, originally from the south, farming on the plains. But long ago, in the time even before that of my grandfather, these beast came from the west; they had always been out there, bothering us in small bands, but never gathered together to attack like they had then. They were fierce warriors and chased us out of our land. In generations since, we have continuously migrated away from these aggressive and hostile people you call Mordok. Our history has always been one of movement, being displaced from time to time, pushed to the far corner of this land, by tribes of bloodthirsty Mordok.
For we, like all those in The Pack, only wished to live close to nature, hunting only for food and skins for clothing. We lived in harmony with the earth; we knew which plant to use for food and medicine. But the force of these Mordok made us take stand. Members of our clan rallied us to take action and fight not run. These were our lands, from Gaia and The Great Wolf, belonging not to these crazed savages. So rally we did; we trained, and became skillful warriors and then we to shared in this history of violent warfare.
The First of our stands was not to long ago when I was still saw as a child, yet being that young did not hinder me, I picked up my fathers hunting bow and a small hatchet and fought along side my fellow people. I remember the fear I felt when I first saw the Mordok up close; they are ugly things with flesh from their kills hanging on their bodies, their clothes muddy, bloody, and torn. They care only about blood and war, their leaders even wear the bones of their victims around their necks.
After the fight I was told that I was to young, that I must wait before I make my mark on our world. I argued back; I had fought and held my own, and I would fight again. And so I did just that, and I started proving myself to them; we held thanks to The Great Wolf for our victories.
We were beginning to reclaim our land, many of our warriors shot bows as tall as they, made of slender cane, or wield axes and hammers even more fierce then those of the Mordok. I soon showed promise and was given a battle axe to replace my father’s hatchet and bow. We learned to show up suddenly, seemingly out of no where, to attack. We would retreat or escape the same way. We were learning. I was learning. I made a name for myself, being so small yet fighting with such strength and vigor. And soon after we began our fight back to our homeland, I fell in love.
He was not a fighter; he understood our need to fight, my need to fight, but he wished there was no need. He was truly one with nature and His ears will ring with his name… I am sorry it pains me to think of him even now.

It seemed the harder we fought, the harder they fought; the more we killed, the more that came. And sadly after years of us holding our own, they came with to great of numbers and crushed us. I’m not sure how many, if any survived, but my lover did not; he gave his life, fighting off so many at once, so that I could escape into the night. I ran throughout the night and all the next day. I just kept running till I ran into more Clans and heard these rumors of new people and new hope.
So I head to these lands now for a new start, to meet with these new people, anyone who is against those damned beast I will gladly call friend. Maybe together we will finally be rid of these cursed creatures…